


darkest unto dawn

by avocadotoast (colonel_ressentiment)



Category: Beyond Eden (Visual Novel)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 17:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonel_ressentiment/pseuds/avocadotoast
Summary: Ashgrove is safely 3 months in the past, but Alex Wake continues to awaken in the night from guilty dreams. Though he desperately wishes to confront them at the source, the most unlikely obstacle in his way is also the man who has become his closest friend, lover, and protector.
Relationships: Alex Wake/Morris Bell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	darkest unto dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Pedantic note: In the English translation of Beyond Eden, while Morris refers to Alex as "Wake" in most scenes, he switches to using "Alex" during situations with more closeness/emotional depth. Given the premise of this entire fic, I decided to stick with "Alex". (Morris's Korean voice acting always uses "Alex-군 (gun)".)

"... -lex…"

"... Alex!"

He awoke in warmth, the cold fingers of the dream reluctantly retreating from his wrists and his neck, clinging last to his face before he struggled free. His cheeks burned from the caress of an icy palm, but a heartbeat later he realized they were only tears, and the arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he trembled awake, were warm with life.

"... Doctor…?"

Pressed against Morris's chest, he felt rather than heard Morris let out a soft breath.

"Alex… another dream?"

"... yes. My apologies..."

He felt a hand stroke his hair gently, and knew without opening his eyes that it would still be mid-night, and that he had once again woken Morris with his thrashing. It would be the third time this week alone - yet there was still no resentment in Morris’s words, only concern, and the weight of his comforting touch.

Alex would’ve preferred the resentment. It was familiar to him; there had been innumerable bed partners who’d reacted that way to being rudely woken. Neither did resentment bother him; it kept him firmly apart from those he sought only for pleasure, and discouraged prying. In fact, he had never before stayed long enough with the same lover for any to take interest in why a grown man would have such fearful dreams.

Three months after leaving Ashgrove with Dr. Morris Bell, that was no longer the case, and Morris had never shown him the resentment he’d expected - for anything. Once he'd found out about the subject of Alex’s dreams - for Alex had ultimately given in to his prying - Morris had seemingly taken it upon himself to single-handedly defend Alex from them. Though Alex did not dream often now, when he awoke from one, it would be to a kind voice and soothing touch lulling him back to sleep. The morning after, Morris would usually find some excuse to be exceptionally attentive to him, even more so than his usual punctilious care - Alex even suspected that the doctor had been rather more receptive to his advances than usual because of this, on several occasions. He had not kept track. 

But after that first reveal of his dreams, and since Morris had taken on a self-imposed duty to protect him, Alex had not told Morris about one specific thing.

That his dreams were no longer about Beth, and that the cold, haunted hands that had scrabbled against him just before waking were Morris's.

He had an urge to push Morris away then and flee the bed, but it was tempered by the leaden exhaustion that had sunk into his body, and all he could do was rest against Morris, taking in the comfort that was not his due. He knew the doctor would unconditionally grant it, and he despised himself all the more for taking advantage. Yet there was nothing else to do but wait for sleep once again, and hope that Morris would be able to follow suit.

So Alex thought, but tonight Morris seemed to have come to a conclusion of his own.

“Alex...” Morris started, hesitated, and then went on resolutely, “do you resent me?”

Despite himself, Alex blinked. He blearily raised his head to meet Morris’s eyes, but in the dim light he could not tell what expression he saw.

“Why… what brought this about, Doctor?” But he knew the answer as soon as the words left his mouth.

“I stopped you.” Morris’s voice was soft. “You gave up your vengeance for a promise from me. And when you revealed your dreams to me - when I finally understood what it had cost you to agree, I wanted to do whatever I could to protect you. But... I could not even help you quiet the voices of your mind. I do not wish you to turn back from your course now - but, I understand, you have every right to feel betrayed...”

_Even if you feel guilt, it is my fault alone for being incapable. Who else could be to blame?_

Alex choked down an utterly inappropriate urge to laugh; it was at his own idiocy, but Morris would not have taken it that way. Of course Morris was blaming himself instead. Morris had _never_ blamed him, not even for the unforgivable things he had done. And how was he to explain that this _lack of blame_ in itself was the cause of his sleepless nights?

“I do not…”

Nothing Alex could say would help. If he allowed Morris to blame himself, Morris would redouble his efforts towards helping Alex achieve a peace of mind he did not deserve. If he tried to reassure Morris, it would be taken as Alex deciding to silently suffer on his own, and Morris would continue to be concerned for him. He could not shield himself by simply keeping his distance; rather, he did not _want_ to. But the closer he allowed himself to become to Morris, the more every kindness weighed on him like a boulder, pressing the air from him.

He gritted his teeth, trying desperately to focus on just one sentence, and finally managed to mutter, “I have never resented you, Doctor…”

He did not know if Morris would even believe him.

“... I resent only myself.”

A pause. Alex determinedly turned his face against the sheets, avoiding Morris’s gaze now; he did not want to consider the kindness in those eyes, and he knew that his own expression would only be an embarrassment to them both. In daylight he could easily affect nonchalance, but in the darkest night every single word seemed to cut clear to his soul. He prayed only that Morris would accept that as an end to the conversation; at the same time, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Morris would not.

And Morris did not. His voice was gentle as he finally said, after a long moment, “I... would rather you resent me than resent yourself, Alex. If it would help you-”

“... why?”

He did not need to respond. He should not have. Any other night and he would’ve been able to let that dangerous topic rot on the vine, but Alex had spent three months avoiding even the thought, and was finally too tired.

“... Alex? What-”

“Why do you not resent _me?_ ”

He felt Morris stiffen at his words, and imagined almost too clearly the shock on his face. Alex pushed himself free of Morris’s embrace - he could not bear to accept comfort any longer - and went on before he could think better of doing so.

“I hurt you, Doctor - I _forced myself_ on you. Men have killed for smaller insults, and yet... you’ve willingly come to share my bed. You’re concerned over my peaceful sleep. You blame _yourself_ for my nightmares. Even if you had promised me your help… is this not unbelievable? How could you _possibly_ accept this?”

“... Alex-”

“Even more damning… I felt nothing wrong with it.” He did not even know if he were talking to Morris or himself now. “I did it simply because you were in my way - in _her_ way. Men justify their atrocities in the Almighty’s name; I justified mine in hers. But I’ve given her up… I have no justification now, and of course to you I never did. I am no longer the boy you needed to protect, and I am not the good man you think I am. Doctor…”

“... I do not deserve what you are trying to do. You are a truly good man… would you not rather live your life in peace?”

A long silence followed. With his own blood pounding in his ears, Alex slowly realized that he’d been gripping the blanket so tightly he was about to rip the fabric.

He could not step back any more. He’d finally said what he’d spent the last three months slowly realizing. The more he’d let himself avoid hurting others, the closer he’d become to Morris... the more he’d grown horrified at what he had done, and the less he’d understood why Morris had forgiven him.

All he could do now was avoid hurting Morris further. He gritted his teeth, awaiting the doctor’s inevitable protestations - how he must not think so poorly of himself, how it was clearly Morris’s own fault for making him feel this way - and resolved himself to remain firm against it. He would not let Morris take on any more of his blame.

And then Morris let out a long sigh, and said quietly, “Alex… may I ask one thing…?"

"... what is it?"

"Why did you forgive me for attempting to poison you?”

Momentarily forgetting his resolve, Alex stared at him.

The night of his fateful decision to abandon vengeance, Alex had left Morris’s room very much alive and well. He’d only found out about the poisoned liquor afterwards because Morris had had an attack of conscience and came to him with the empty bottle, confessing what he had planned to do if Alex had been beyond all hope. At the time, Alex had not even thought it worth mentioning. He had been an enemy of the Edenics; Morris had wished to protect them. It only made sense that Morris would have considered drastic measures, especially considering what Alex had done to him already, and so Alex had not given it a second thought.

Only later had he reflected that an ordinary man might not have taken a murder attempt so lightly, nor become so close with his would-be murderer. But it still had not bothered him. He knew what kind of man Morris was, and that only extreme circumstances - which Alex himself had enforced - would have driven him to do such a thing. It had never changed his assessment of Morris as a good man.

“... we were enemies then. You had… no other choice.” He heard himself saying, as if from afar. “It was only understandable…”

“But then… when you used force against me, you also considered me an enemy.” Although Morris paused on the words, his voice did not shake. “Then is it not understandable as well?”

“That is… not the same. You did not do it in the end. You’ve remained a good man-”

“Would a truly good man have prepared the poison in the first place?”

Alex could not answer. He understood, belatedly, what Morris was driving at, but for once he had no way of responding.

“If you are not a good man, Alex… then neither am I.” There was pain in Morris’s voice, but nevertheless also a gentle resolve. “Not in the way you believe. I caused harm by failing to take action, and did not protect you or Miss Wake when you needed me to. When driven to desperation, I almost resorted to murder - and though I was willing to die in reparation, it would have been piling one sin atop another. But...”

“... if you could still forgive me all of it in the end, then… there is no reason I cannot do the same.”

“That is not fair, Doctor.” Alex whispered. It was a juvenile response, but in that moment he felt almost as if he were a child being given instruction. He did not understand how Morris could have made admitting to attempted murder feel like a prayer for his soul. “If you insist on forgiving me, how am I to…”

“Forgive yourself.” Morris said quietly. “That is all I ever wanted for you, Alex…”

He knew this. He knew Morris was right… and yet it was no easier for him to believe. The accusations roiling in his mind _scoffed_ , tearing the concept of forgiveness to shreds almost as soon as he’d considered it. Even if Morris could forgive him unconditionally, he did not understand how to forgive himself, nor what to do with the knowledge of the hurt he had caused someone close to him. Comforting embraces could not hold back the night forever, no matter how hard Morris might try, and in the end he would still be alone in the darkness.

But as Alex was about to speak, either to dispute or give in, he found himself reflecting on Morris’s final words of comfort. Though Morris had resolutely defended Alex from his own self-accusations, when the doctor had spoken instead of his own feelings, he had been pensive in a way that he had not been even while blaming himself for Alex’s dreams. It was such a strangely vulnerable display that despite himself, Alex found himself drawn to meeting Morris’s eyes again.

“Doctor… is there nothing else you would say…?”

Morris started at his words, as if he were wrenching himself from a thought and had not even expected Alex to respond. But fixed with Alex’s gaze, he finally seemed to relent. “It... is nothing, Alex. I had only just realized, earlier... you were right about one thing.”

“You are indeed no longer the boy I needed to protect… and I should not have treated you as one. I may have caused you worry, and for that, I am sorry...”

Alex blinked. For the first time that night, he seemed to see Morris’s face clearly. Faintly illuminated by light from the window, with his silver hair still tangled from interrupted sleep, Morris looked neither like the kind authority figure of Alex’s memory nor the would-be savior who’d tried desperately to take on his blame; he simply looked old and deeply tired. Alex had an unbidden urge to reach out, to smooth the loose curls that wreathed the doctor’s face, and comfort him just as Morris had done before.

But he could not at that moment, for although Morris had not explained himself, Alex suddenly understood what his apology had meant.

“Is that why you never told me how much I had hurt you...?” He whispered. “Because you wanted to save me from the knowledge of what I’d done?”

Morris’s eyes widened in shock, and though he did not speak for a long spell, the flash of pain that passed over his face confirmed Alex’s sudden suspicion. Finally, he said, softly, “Alex… how long have you…”

“Since the very start...” It was not a lie. Even if he had not understood then, he had merely been callous, not unobservant. “You never returned to care for the plants in the conversatory after I assaulted you. When you first came with me to London, I occasionally noticed you jump when I entered the room. Even when you went to bed with me willingly, you sometimes seemed to lose focus… Doctor, you-”

Alex stopped himself with an effort. He could _not_ let the horror and agony he suddenly felt express itself as bitterness towards Morris; he had already hurt the older man enough. Instead, he finally said, quietly and painfully and fearing what the answer would be, “How could you let me continue to cause you pain for _three months_ simply because you wanted to protect me?”

Morris let out a long breath, closing his eyes tightly. Alex was almost afraid he would refuse to answer - although he desperately needed to understand, he could not pressure Morris again, not now, and not on this point. But in the end Morris spoke again, his voice hoarse. “Because... I knew the feelings would pass.”

He looked down, as if he were trying to avoid Alex’s seeking gaze. “I had already forgiven you, and I truly wished to stay by your side, and help you continue on your path… so I did not want to trouble your mind with the past. I was happy to do so. I… enjoyed… I do not regret it...”

“But you also knew…” Alex said softly, “That if someday I were actually to become a man who did not hurt others… that I would not have wanted this.”

“... yes. I… that was my mistake.”

Incongruously, Morris was smiling sadly when he looked again at Alex. Though the light was poor, Alex could make out an odd shimmer in his eyes.

“I thought that, as long as I could shield you from your fears and your pain, and protect you from the past, it would be enough. But… that is not how a good man would wish to be treated, is it? Alex...”

“... no, it is not.” Alex’s voice shook, but as he fiercely held Morris’s gaze, he found that he no longer cared whether he embarrassed himself with emotion. “How could I understand forgiveness if you don’t acknowledge that I’ve ever wronged you? If you don’t allow me to take responsibility? Doctor… how am I supposed to become the good man you wished me to be, if I couldn’t even stop hurting someone I loved?”

He heard the older man make a strange sound, as if choking back a breath, and knew then that the lights he saw in Morris’s eyes were tears.

“... I-”

He felt suddenly, immensely, helpless. At that moment, having finally laid bare the hurt caused by his own ignorance, Alex could not simply pull Morris into his arms to comfort him. Did Morris actually wish him to? Was his attention unwelcome? It was as though they had crossed a bridge at long last, but now he no longer knew the customs of the land he stood in, nor what language he could use to convey emotions too simple for words.

But he was saved from the dilemma. He saw Morris slowly reach out, his hand hesitating just before reaching Alex as if he were not sure either whether he might offend. Without a second thought, Alex took it in his own, entwining his fingers with Morris’s and feeling Morris reciprocate his gesture unhesitatingly. Although neither of them spoke for a long moment, although he could _feel_ Morris shaking with barely-suppressed emotion, the warmth of that familiar touch anchored them both like a promise.

“Alex…” Morris finally murmured, his voice hoarse. “Forgive me…”

He squeezed Morris’s hand reassuringly, and heard something that was almost a chuckle in response. Of course Morris was still apologizing, even now, but this time… it did not feel so hollow any more.

“I will, if you… will you let me atone, Doctor? However I can...?”

“Yes. Of course…”

“Will you continue being yourself with me? Would you rather be simply...” He would not ask the explicit question - he did not want to force Morris to answer. But Morris seemed to understand nonetheless; his grip on Alex’s hand tightened for a moment, affirmatively.

“Alex… I would not wish that to change...”

“Then,” Alex whispered, returning the squeeze, ” _you must tell me_ if I am about to hurt you again… for I do not know how to be a good man yet. Will you help me?”

“... yes.” Although Morris’s voice still shook dangerously, his responses had never hesitated. “However I am able.”

“Then _I_ will also do whatever I can… and…”

Alex stopped, letting out a breath that felt as if the weight of years had left with it. It seemed as if the night, and his heart-opening to Morris, had lasted just as long. Yet it was inexorably ending - and as he noted the rising light gently illuminating Morris’s face, Alex realized there was one more thing he had to express, that he had waited for months to be able to express, and at that moment he’d finally understood how to say it.

He slowly brought Morris’s hand to his chest, and bowed his head over it.

“Doctor... _I am so sorry._ ”

In the warmth of the growing dawn, he heard Morris finally allowing himself to weep.


End file.
